Monday, July 31, 2006


I hate to complain about the weather when we're just suffering through a typical July here in the high desert and the rest of the country is being broiled like a baby beef liver. But it's been hot.

Yesterday, I never got out of my pajamas despite the fact that we have a houseguest. I languished on the sofa for most of the day yesterday in my yoga tank and cupid-adorned, men's pajama bottoms that I had rolled up to my knees — because nothing spells classy like a pair of rolled up pajama bottoms.

Yep, I socialized with the neighbors and Ron, one of Bill's oldest friends (who drove in from Denver for the weekend), in the front yard while wearing my pajamas. But considering we have a picnic table in the front yard, who would expect anything less than a pratically middle-aged matron holding court in the front yard in her pajamas.

I was too hot and too tired to even fathom making myself more presentable. And really why shouldn't I have a day to become one with the 'jamas? One might think that Ron's presence in the house would encourage me to at least make an attempt to act right, but considering the fact that I had to rouse him from the neighbor's yard at 4:30 a.m., I didn't really think that he was one to judge.

Yep, I discovered that our houseguest had gone M.I.A. around 4 a.m. Saturday night/Sunday morning. We had stayed up too late as it was Saturday night and before hittin' the hay, Ron said he was going to go out to smoke a cigarette then go to bed.

When I got up at 4:00 for a trip to the can, I noticed the light still on in the room he was staying in. I checked in on him, but there was no "him" to check on. The room was empty. I woke Bill and he searched the yard. No signs of Ron.

We couldn't figure where he'd gone, but someone had to go look for him. Bill claimed to be still under the guidance of his alcoholic mistress, so that left me to act as search party. So off I took with a search light in hand.

I slowly drove around our neighborhood, scanning the yards and alleys looking for our lost houseguest. I was beginning to fear that he wasn't going to be found until daylight or the cop's called. But I looped around our block one last time.

Then I noticed something strange in the grass at the end of our block. As I slowed and flashed my light, I saw Ron lying on his side, new Converse just about in the gutter. I rolled down the passenger-side window and called out to him.

It took a while, but Ron finally began to rouse. He rolled so that I could see his face all angelic in his drunken slumber. I flashed the light in his eyes until he sat up. I said, "Come on. Get in the car. You can't sleep in the neighbor's yard."

Finally, he responded, "Now?" Um, yeah, as much fun as I was having driving around shining a light in my neighbor's yards, I was ready to call it a night ... er, morning, such as it was.

Friday, July 28, 2006

All about Bill ...

As I said yesterday, Bill's band has a big show tomorrow night.

Well, they should get a decent crowd, as they've gotten tons of press. Most notable is the story that is in the other newspaper today — not the newspaper I work for.

Our dear friend, Greg, who is a sports writer by trade and a features writer by necessity for that other newspaper, penned a pretty cool story about Bill's punk-rock past. You can check it out here.

Since it's so close to his birthday, I'm decreeing today as Bill's day. Today will be about him. I know, it's a sacrifice for me, but I can give him this day ... this one day ... or at least most of the day.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

Show time ... again

Yep, it's another show weekend for our little family.

Bill's band, the Wrong Impressions, is playing a big headliner show Saturday night.

Bill and I are doing some acoustic songs as a warm-up act and to bide time.

See the venue they are playing shares a wall with the local dinner theater. Right now they are featuring Fiddler on the Roof, which runs late. They can't have the rukus of a rock 'n' roll show next door until after the show is over.

So, we've worked out a couple of our favorite songs to do acoustic.

I'm going to be doing two songs by myself first. One I wrote. all. by. myself. and will eventually be a Riveter songs. The other is a Supersuckers song that Laurena and I heard Eddie Spaghetti sing solo last fall.

It's called Breaking Honey's Heart. I was able to figure out the words and chords. all. by. myself. (Yes, I am rather proud of my recent accomplishments — I mean, check me out, doing stuff. This is new for me. Go me!) It's way sad and I used to get all choked up whenever I'd try to sing it. But I've sung it so many times preparing for this show that I'm over it now (hopefully).

Then Bill's gonna join me for a couple of songs. He's gonna play the harmonica and play bass and do a little singing, as well.

I'm really looking forward to it, but ... strangely enough, I'm nervous.

I haven't gotten nervous before playing with Riveter in a long time, but the idea of being the main focus is nerve racking (which surprises me because it is, after all, how I prefer things to be ... you know, all about me).

So, here it is Thursday, the cusp of another hecktic rock 'n' roll weekend, but such is the life of a rock star (or so I pretend to be) in Grand Junction.

Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Who's with me?

"You don't win friends with salad. You don't win friends with salad. You don't win friends with salad."

That was the chant my darling 6-year-old sang out while she conga-ed around the living room last night.

When she finally found pause from her festive fantango, she cried, "I'm gonna watch some Simpsoms!* Who's with me?"

Who's with her, indeed.

I know there are many parents who don't let their kids watch the Simpsons ... and for good reason, too. But it's just TV, it can't hurt her right (cue sound of anvil falling on my head ... now).

Can I be honest with you? I know I can, dear Internets.

I just love hearing Margaret quoting those subversive TV shows. It gives me delight and makes me feel like an edgy parent.

And really I have to go with being edgy because there's no way in hell I can even pretend to pull off the wholesome parent schtick. I barely manage competent most days.

Really what it boils down to is that quoting the Simpsons is funny. And if you ain't funny, you aren't any use to me

* Yeah, she says the "Simpsoms" instead of the Simpsons. Who are we to tell her otherwise? Yeah, we're her parents, but does that give us the right to correct her ... oh yeah, I guess it does.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Um, yeah ...

So, last night for dinner Bill made a kick-ass salad with which we ate cottage cheese (you've never seen a family eat cottage cheese the way we eat cottage cheese — we use forks!). It was yummy and healthy.

Afterward, to wash down all that nutritiousy goodness, I ate a bunch of candy and ice cream. And just to make sure that I never, ever lose any weight, I ate a bowl of chocolate cereal at 10 p.m. ... but not just any chocolate cereal (who, I would like to know, was able to justify chocolate cereal in the first place) but chocolate cereal with those marshmallow bits in it.

So next time you see me, check out my ignormous cereal-shaped ass.

I think the problem is that the dude who fills up the vending machines here at work put no chocolate, chocolate-chip muffins in this week. I'm going through withdrawals are something.

On top of my healthy eating habits, I also watched 4 episodes of The Office ... twice. Yeah, I know that the BBC version is probably way funnier, but this version comes on my television at least once a week and I got all addicted.

I didn't want to, but I did. I didn't even want to like it, but the TV was all, "Go ahead and try it. Everyone else is watching it. Do it." And I'm all, "Naw, sit coms just ain't what they used to be." And the TV was all, "You know you wanna." And I did, so now I just want to watch this TV show and eat candy.

Do you think there's something wrong with me?

Monday, July 24, 2006

The English Beat and more ...

My band played Friday night ... who cares?

Because the English Beat was the show and that's really what mattered.

Like I said before, they played here last January and it was a great show. I mean really great.

This time ... was exponentially better. Amazing.

They had a different keyboard player. Instead of an A-DAT machine, they had the bass player from General Public ... and that's not all (He was amazing, by the way. Laurena said he played like he knew where all the notes were.)

Their guitar player, Rick, was doing tour manager stuff (which was cool because he's super fun to hang with) because Lynval Golding from the Specials played guitar with them instead.

Here's a picture of Dave Wakeling and Lynval Golding, whom I insisted on calling Mr. Golding all night.
It was so flipping cool, I'm still beside myself.

The sound was phenomenal. The dance floor was packed as very few people were sitting during their show. The energy was great and the show amazing.

I posted a blurb on my Haute Mamas blog about taking Mar and Sean to load in the equipment before the show.

It was one of those experiences that I'll remember for a long time.

Friday, July 21, 2006

The Beat goes on ...

Picture this, if you will:

It's 1986. My best friend, Jen, and I are driving around in her car, a Fiat Bertone:We were blaring the cassette in the tape deck and thought we were cool shit in our pegged jeans with the tails of our button-ups hanging out the bottom of our sweaters. I had stupid hair and an equally stupid view of the world, but I had one thing right. The band that was blaring through those Fiat speakers kicked ass. I remember thinking I was so cool because I knew the words to say many of their songs.
And tonight Riveter will be opening for them ... the English Beat.

The Beat were here in January and Bill's band opened for them. We got to hang out with the guys which ... really, is so cool. So, I'm looking forward to that and we get to play again.

It doesn't matter what is ailing me, but playing music is my best medicine. Tonight is going to be a good time.

Thursday, July 20, 2006

Good ideas

This guy, Kyle MacDonald, came up with a good idea ... and it totally worked out for him.

He wanted a house and he decided that instead of doing like the rest of us saps, and paying money for one, he'd trade stuff for a house.

It seems wacky, huh? I mean, who trades stuff for houses? Well, Kyle MacDonald did.

He started with one red paperclip and he traded it for a pen shaped like a fish. Then he traded the fish pen for something else and on and on until he ended up with a movie role which he was able to trade for a house.

That's what I call a good idea. I wanna get me one of those ... a good idea. Not sure how you get a good idea, but I've come up with some great bad ideas before.

Bad ideas come to me like ... something that comes easy (yeah, I tried to work up a humorous analogy, but all I could come up with was "a fat man carrying a watermelon" and that just didn't seem to make sense). I think I just prefer the bad ideas; like tying the dog's leash to Margaret's little 2-year-old arm so she could "walk" the dog — that took hardly any effort at all.

That Kyle guy's next good idea should to hold a seminar on how to come up with good ideas. Oh, or even better, he could start a good-idea cult and I could quit my job and follow him around while he has his good ideas.

Wednesday, July 19, 2006

T-shirts are funny

Last night while getting gas, I watched a rather white-trashy (I can say white trashy because I was raised white trash, aiight?) guy shuffled (the official walking method of the white trashy) out of the convenience store. He was wearing this t-shirt:
Get it? Fah-Q? Ha, ha, white trashy. I get your funny shirt.

But what's really funny was what I discovered when I googled "FAH-Q t-shirt."

The first link is this one to the Florida Association for Healthcare Quality ... or FAHQ (I won't even go into the fact that health care is two words).

I love that they didn't realize their acronym is oh-so appropriate when it comes to the health-care industry.

So ha-ha to those Florida health-care people who don't know what their shirts really say and that they are sad losers for not knowing health care is two words (or maybe the real sad thing is that I'm sad for taking glory in the world not knowing AP style — shudder, I'm pathetic).

K. Enough of that and on with more pictures from Saturday night:
I love this one of Laurena. She looks so happy, like she's demonstrating the many features on the Price-Is-Right contestant's new car.
Check out L's hair. How does she get it to do that? And Bridgett, man, she had supa short hair when we first started playing, now check out her flowing locks back there rockin' like no girl has ever rocked before.

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

Grand Valley Tracks Trek

I work for a very cool newspaper that has been, for the last 3 years, putting out a compilation CD of local music, Grand Valley Tracks.

This year in conjunction with the release of the CD, they booked multiple venues and had 10 acts play. My band was one of those bands.

The show was Saturday night. You can read about it (from someone other than myself) here.

We had a great time.

I realize that I say the same thing after every show lately, but it's true. We've been having a great time playing. We've had some really high energy sets and some great crowds. Saturday's crowd was one of the best we've ever had.

At the end of the show, we had one song ready for an encore. We played that song but the crowd cheered for more. We've never left the stage really intending to be done playing only to have the crowd insist on more. It was such an amazing rush.

We had great feedback and a really good time being part of this really fun event.

Per usual, here's some photos:
KP wants you to be know that Riveter rocks ... and that she's one hot chick!

See, I told you KP was hot.

Me and KP. I was having a hair issue that night. I couldn't keep it out of my face. I eventually just went with it.

Monday, July 17, 2006

Super D

Not that I didn't already know this, but I just can't burn the ol' candle like I used to. I'm too damn old and tired and my kid is still scared of monsters coming out of the back yard.

Friday we drove to the land of mormons, Jello salad and popular phrases such as "Oh my heck!"

The trip was great. We saw the Supersuckers play some new songs and I got to give Eddie Spaghetti a copy of our song "Spot the Bunny" which is an ode to Eddie.

I'm making quite a name for myself in and around Salt Lake City as a psycho girl in that the owner of the record store Laurena and I visited last October remembered me. "Oh, yeah, you'r that girl that was in my store last time Eddie was here. You're from Colorado," he said.

I didn't remember him at all. I don't know that I even talked to him, but I have been known to harass the 'Suckers' record guy a whole bunch. He knows me ... and I think he's a little scared of me.

But no restraining order yet so that's cool.

Of course, the lightlight of the evening was seeing Social Distortion.

Mike Ness is a very stylized guy ... all tucked in and wearing his pseduo '50s gas-station attendant garb. Plus he makes these persed-lips faces that I found very interesting.

The crowd was ripe with freaks. It's like the oppression of the church causes those that need to rebel turn into complete fringe people. I saw so many bouffanted, sleeved girls wearing corsets and black dickies that I felt like a kindergarten teacher in my black skirt and the skull t-shirt I got at Target in Reno.

So many young people with so many tattoos. It's a lifetime commitment and the important thing to remember is that tattoos age right along with the rest of you ... and this from a girl with tattoos.

Other than the agro assholes that feel that the floor in front of the stage should be their personal space to engage in all of the aggresstive homoerotic touching that they can muster, it was a great show.

Friday, July 14, 2006

Show time

K. I'm not at work, I'm home. And I should be getting ready to leave for Salt Lake City instead of sitting in my smelly basement in my underwear.

But I wanted to leave today knowing that I had posted five days this week (it's my newest obsessive/complusion thing that I am currently tweaking over).

So I signed Margaret up for a gmail account.

She loves to send and — even better — get e-mails.

Recently I received this exactly reply to a message I had sent her:

"as you noe you rote me a e-mail i like it!!"

Yes, indeed, I had "rote" her "a e-mail." I love getting e-mails from her. Here's the one I got while at work yesterday:

"hi mom i had a fun day with daddy today bacus we went to the store
love margaret."

You're heart is made of stone if you do not think this is the cutest e-mail you've ever seen. And she only misspelled one work. My kid rocks.

Speaking of my kid, I posted a particularly entertaining entry about Mar's obsession with milk on my Haute Mamas blog, check it out.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

On the road ... again

Tomorrow, we're heading west again to Salt Lake City.

Even though we have a show Saturday night, we could not pass up the opportunity to see, not just the Supersuckers — who are worth the trip alone — but Social D, as well.

When I lived in San Francisco, I uses to see local acts and smaller bands a couple times a week and big stadium shows a couple times a month.

It rocked.

Now, I live in a great place with a fun local scene, but we don't get a lot of big acts coming through town. So, we're forced to make the trek to see bigger acts — which is fine with me. I don't mind driving so much, plus this time we get to go with some of our favorite travelling companions ... and we're leaving the kid at home — she'll be fine. We'll put some food and water down for her ... what? She's old enough now.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Thanks a lot ...

I'm tired today and it's all M. Night Shyamalan's fault.

Well, his fault and the TV people's fault. Every commerical break there is an ad for Shyamalan's new movie, Lady in the Water.

These commericals are scary. I turn the channel. Turning the channel away from whatever Mar is watching is a crime in our house (she's fearful of missing even a second of whatever she happens to be watching — last night she had on Last Comic Standing, but she was reading a book of children's poetry by Robert Louis Stevenson), so she suffers through these commericals and then is completely freaked out at night.

She's been having bad dreams. Two nights ago, she came into our bed and I slept in her bed. Last night Bill went to comfort her and I fell back asleep. A couple hours later, I went to retrieve the man from the single bed stuffed with a bajillion stuffed animals and a little girl.

As soon as I touched his shoulder, Mar murmered, "No" and she clung onto him like he was a life raft and she just jumped off the Titantic.

So I left him there and slept alone.

OK, maybe I'm a bit culpable in that I could prevent her from watching TV in the evenings when these commericals are on, but I don't. I wonder about the damage I'm inflicting on her, but I still let her watch.

I think the problem is that she needs to learn to click back and forth between two channels. Yeah, that's it, she needs to work the TV remote better. That'll fix all our problems.

Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Fishing, California-style

Look, my dad caught a fish ... with his bare hands.

Yeah, that's how they's do their fishin' in good ole California.

Before I go on to explain exactly how my dad found himself with a handful of brown trout, please take a moment to notice how flippin' clear the water is in the Truckee River. It was just gorgeous — gorgeous, I say, like butta.
I love this picture. Here's my dad, Bill, Sean and some strange lady who happened by in her inflatable raft all bend over, hands scrounging around in the river. (It reminds me of this painting by Francois Millet.)

But really what they were doing is trying to revive fish.

Yeah, they are fish revivers.

See, the wildlife guy came by in his big truck with his big tank o' fish and starts throwing buckets full of fish into the river.

Bill immediately sloshes his way over and talks the guy into letting him release the fish:Of course the guy is going to let Bill carry the buckets of fish and water up and down the river bank. I mean, there was no special skill or finesse required to dump a bucket into the river, plus the guy got to stand around and chew his chaw while Bill did all the work.

The problem was that not all the fish seemed, ah, well, suited to their new home. So the kind-hearted (and less squeamish of us — I was not interested in holding on to a mostly dead fish ... yeah, I'm selfish that way) spent some time with the belly-up fish, trying to get them swimming again.

They were able to save some, some didn't make it. One poor fish was left for dead on the bottom of the river. During the watergun fight we later had, Sean threw the poor, dead fish at Bill, which miraculously revived the dead trout and it swam away.
The rest of the day involved floating Mar around in her boat. The river was too shallow for a big boat but was perfect for Mar's one-man dingy.
We eventually got tired of dragging her around, so we tied her to this rock. Yeah, we're clever like that.
She was just as happy to paddle around tethered to the rock as she was while Bill dragged her around the river. Kids are great that way.
Here's a picture of my mom at the river's edge where we dragged numerous chairs, coolers, towels, squirt guns and miscellaneous other things we just had to have while sitting by the river.

Notice my mom's Chaco sandals, we got her those a while back. I have a pair, too. They were great for tromping through the river and they dried fast.

They do have one draw back... visible tan lines on the feet:
Yeah, I need to remember to take off my sandals when I'm sitting around in the sun. I look like some kind of freak who got creative with the sunless tanner.

Monday, July 10, 2006

Catching up

I was all excited about getting back to my regular postings here, but you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men ...

What my enthusiasm hadn't taken into account was that I'd have a week's worth of stuff piled on my desk that needed attention AND .... and ... I have a doctor's appointment at 2 this afternoon.

And not just any doctor's appointment, nope, I've got to see the, uh, woman's doctor.

Please save me. I'd rather stay at work and actually work than go to see the gynecologist, but I gotta do what I gotta do.

So, for now, I'll leave you with this:

Robin's quickly figured out way to remove pizza grease from a "Build-a-Bear" doggie guy

1. Once it is discovered that the newly acquired, most-favorite, new stuffed doggie guy has prostrated itself in a pool of pizza grease, first thing is to yell at the child-owner of the doggie guy.

2. Then make child feel guilty for not taking better care of the new doggie guy.

3. Snatch doggie guy from child and rush to bathroom.

4. Douse afflicted area with talcum powder and fluff lightly.

5. Shake excess powder from fur. (Give an extra shake — just to make you feel better.)

6. Rub gently with very dry, damp washcloth.

7. Then rub violently until stain is gone and/or frustration is alleviated.

8. Toss dog nonchalantly back to kid who will likely squeal with delight over the freshly cleaned doggie schnozola and maybe even comment on how good it smells.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Y is for yoga

So here we sat last night when Margaret asks, "Do you think Gramma has a yoga book?"

I wasn't really paying much attention and suggested she ask Gramma. Moments later my dad is going through their collection of video tapes.

At the far back of their cabinet, my dad pulled out an instructional video on yoga which he put on in their bedroom.

Ten minutes later, I went to see what was up.

Yoga was up. My 6-year-old kid was doing yoga -- all by herself.

She never asked for an audience or help or anything.

She just did yoga, a whole videotape of yoga.

Bill and I started doing yoga over a year ago, but we mostly do that at the gym or while she's sleeping.

We have done a little bit of yoga with her,but she never really seemed interested.

It was quite a spectacle to walk into my parent's bedroom to see my little kid doing Warrior C and Downward Facing Dog.

The phrase "she never ceases to amaze me" is true so often, amazement is a standard state for me.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006


It's the Fourth of July.

I'm in Truckee. It's been a good trip so far.

The drive went really well ... for me. I slept pretty much the whole way. It rocked.

Bill drove most of the whole way. Sean drove for about an hour. That hour was pretty important. It totally woke Bill up.

After about 6 hours of driving, Bill let his 15-year-old take the wheel. We were in the middle of Nevada. You can pretty much see the rest of the day's drive in front of you, so it's a good place for a young driver to get some highway experience.

Even with a straight road, it's still tough to keep an SUV straight on the road when you're new to driving and doing so at 80 mph.

So Sean was behind the wheel and Bill was trying to catch a cat nap. A couple of overcorrections and a hit to the rumble strips along side the road and Bill was full of adrenaline and ready to finish the drive.

We got to Truckee in record time - 11.5 hours.

I've never made it in less than 13 before. So I got a bunch of much needed sleep, Margaret got to watch the 6th season of the Simpsons, Sean got some highway driving experience and Bill ... well, he got to drove a whole bunch.

But we're here now.

Yesterday afternoon, my mom and I were running errands. She decided we needed to stop by the fabric store to pick up some material to make Margaret a July Fourth dress.

That's right, yesterday afternoon she bought some fabric and made this dress:

She was the cutest little kid at the parade today, that's for sure.

The parade was fun ... much better than the ones we have in Grand Junction which are filled with political candidates and ... well, that's about it.

Tonight, my folks, Mar and I saw the fireworks that were set off over Donner Lake. Bill and Sean are seeing Sonic Youth in concert.

So, it's been a good visit so far ... and we've totally been able to scam wireless.